


when you lift me up (i can't get much higher)

by ohsoblue



Category: NoPixel
Genre: GONE SEXUAL, Multi, Trans Character, aka trans siz, self indulgence at its finest, the bois actually go camping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25454578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsoblue/pseuds/ohsoblue
Summary: A stressed Siz gets invited to go camping with Flippy and Curtis. It turns into something much more than a simple trip.
Relationships: Juan Carlos "Flippy" Hernandez/Curtis Swoleroid, Juan Carlos "Flippy" Hernandez/Siz Fulker, Juan Carlos "Flippy" Hernandez/Siz Fulker/Curtis Swoleroid
Kudos: 15





	when you lift me up (i can't get much higher)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Blue here with something very self-indulgent and I'm a little embarrassed because I can count on one hand how many times I've written nsfw, but, uh, here you go. This fic includes penetration, so if that makes you uncomfortable, you've been warned.
> 
> I just love Siz so much. I have a tendency to ship him with... so many others. 
> 
> Anyway, you can find me over on twitter [@imightbeblue (ohsoblue) ](https://twitter.com/imightbeblue). Hope you enjoy!

Siz leans against their ‘borrowed’ truck, dipping his hand back into the bag of jellybeans as Flippy steps away from the lopsided tent. They all watch as it begins to deflate in the middle, exposing misplaced poles. 

In the end, it’s Curtis that breaks the silence.

“It’s fucked, bro.”

Flippy flings his arms into the air, struggling to find his words. 

“Then you do something,” Flippy snaps without any bite. “You can’t sit there and watch me struggle with that for two hours, then talk shit about it after.”

“How do you not know how to put up a tent?” Curtis steps over the discarded instructions and kneels, pulling the poles up from the dirt. 

Siz can’t help the way his eyes dip to his biceps. Siz snaps his gaze away when Flippy stomps over to his side.

Flippy is a line of heat against Siz’s side. Siz nudges the other with his hip and holds out the bag of candy, giving it a little shake as an invitation. He just barely manages to not drop the bag when Flippy digs in- little does he know, all that’s left is buttered popcorn. 

_No one likes that flavor. No one_ , Siz thinks, darkly.

“Why aren’t you helping?” Flippy asks, dropping a handful of the candy beans into his mouth, head tilted back. 

“I said I didn’t give a shit where we sleep,” Siz replies. If it weren’t for Kermy’s intervention, he would still be sleeping in the tub at home. 

“Ah, yeah, and I vetoed that,” Curtis interrupts. “What if it rains?” 

Siz doesn’t feel the need to point out that it rarely ever rains in Los Santos. He’s also entirely sure that the look he gives Flippy takes the words right out of his mouth, anyway. Flippy’s lips twitch. 

“Shut up,” Curtis says when it’s clear that they’re silently talking shit about the weather behind his back. “You know what I mean.”

Then, as casual as can be, Curtis is lifting his shirt over his head and dropping it onto the grass next to his knees. Siz’s next swallow is suddenly, incredibly _dry_. 

Flippy wolf whistles and Curtis laughs, getting right to work.

Suddenly, Siz is reminded that these two got together like, a month ago? And didn’t tell him until last week. Feeling like he’s intruding, he clears his throat.

“I’ll be back,” Siz announces, pushing off the truck. He lets Flippy take the rest of the candy and steps around the foldable chairs in a circle around the fire pit. He drops his biker cut off on the orange one and then heads down a random dirt path, hoping that he doesn’t seem as panicked as he feels.

He misses the looks traded behind his back.

When the camping trip had been proposed to him, Siz hadn’t thought anything of it and agreed, like a starving fish at the sight of a worm. Too bad he didn’t see the hook; time spent with two people he has _feelings_ for, that are currently dating each other. He can’t count on his fingers the number of bad ideas he’s had. This one definitely belongs in the top ten, right?

 _It hasn’t even been a day_ , Siz thinks, _and I have five more to look forward to_.

* * *

Siz thankfully doesn’t get lost, even as the sky turns to pretty pinks above his head. He trails back up the trail to the campsite, next to a cluster of trees underneath a large hill. The view from here is breathtaking. He’s already captured a few pictures and has plans to come back one day, now sure that the H.O.A won’t collapse when he’s not around them.

And if they’re good, maybe he’ll take them with, too. Maybe.

Walking into the site, Siz is met with a tent that isn’t lopsided and the smell of smoke. His eyes are drawn to the fire for longer than necessary, but Siz blinks and then takes a seat in the orange foldable chair. 

“What’d I miss?” Siz asks, watching Curtis stab a marshmallow onto a stick. He absolutely does not look at the beads of sweat dripping down his abs. 

“Flip’s making the bed,” Curtis replies, swinging the stick around and holding it out to him. 

Siz takes it and tries not to twitch when his fingers meet warm skin for a brief second.

“Making sure it’s up to his standards?” 

“And mine,” Curtis says, with a smirk and a glance back at the truck. They both watch as Flippy rounds the vehicle with blankets piled high in his arms. 

“I’m insulted,” Siz jokes, holding his sweet above the fire. As tempting as it is to just dip the entire marshmallow in the fire to watch it burn, he restrains himself. “The floor’s not good enough?”

“Bro, please,” Curtis says, foot nudging the leg of Siz’s chair. “We’re not like you, with your back of steel.”

 _A lie_ , Siz does _not_ say. _That back of yours is something._

And then he makes a face at his own thoughts, because since when has he been like this? 

“Life skills,” he says, simply. Truly, being able to sleep anywhere and on any surface has saved him many sleepless nights. You get used to it. Shouldn’t have to, but you do. Eventually.

They both listen to the rustling in the tent and the crackling of the fire. For a moment, Siz is lulled by the peace of it all. He almost lets his marshmallow get burnt. He pulls it towards him and blows on it. As he snacks, he closes his eyes and leans back in the chair.

Of course, his eyes snap right back open when a thumb swipes the corner of his mouth. He watches Flippy’s retreating form as he sucks on the thumb he used to clean Siz’s mouth.

He blurts, “huh?” and gets no reply. 

“You had something right here,” Curtis says, gesturing to the corner of his own mouth when Siz looks over at him in bafflement. 

Well, if Curtis doesn’t see anything wrong with that. Siz makes a face and relaxes his tense shoulders. 

“Okay… Sure.”

 _This trip is going to kill me, isn’t it?_ Siz is pretty sure it is.

* * *

The next roadblock comes when Siz has the startling realization that unless he wants to freeze in the middle of the night, he’s going to have to share a bed with Curtis and Flippy. After what happened earlier, things had returned to normal and the banter had picked right back up. Now? Siz stands with his hands on his hips, glaring daggers at the front of the tent. Curtis passes by him, a soft hand at his waist before he disappears out of sight.

“Maybe I’ll just stay in the truck-” Siz murmurs to himself, but is shoved by Flippy. He falls through the tent and lands on a plush surface, face tucked into the softest blanket Siz has ever felt. He can be excused for not getting back up right away. (Never mind that it smells like Flippy.)

“Move over,” Flippy says, zipping up the tent. He kicks off his shoes and then the bed dips at Siz’s left. He unintentionally rolls a little closer instead of making space for Flippy. 

“ _Siz_.”

“I’m _going_.” Siz peels his face from the blanket, shaking his feet to get rid of his flip flops. When they drop to the floor, he readjusts so he’s on the left. With another shimmy, Siz’s pants find their way onto his discarded flip flops. Although he could sleep in his jeans, he’d rather not. 

He doesn’t miss the way Flippy clicks his tongue in disappointment. The heavy sigh is just unnecessary, to add salt to the wound. What’s he want from Siz? To sleep on the edge?

He does his very best not to watch when Curtis drops his pants as well, but by focusing so intently on the ceiling of the tent, he misses when Flippy reaches out to manhandle Siz off the blankets, making room for Curtis to slide them down to the end.

Siz is frozen for all of two seconds until he’s dropped onto his back, directly in the middle, and Flippy climbs in on his own side, pulling the blankets over the two of them.

“Hey,” Siz grumps. “Couldn’t you have just asked me to move? And wait, why am I in the middle?”

“Shut up,” Flippy says into the skin of his shoulder. Siz feels goosebumps blossom along his arms as he’s aggressively spooned. “You’re slow. And cold, what the fuck? Curtis is a heater, it’s better this way.”

Vindictively, Siz presses his freezing toes against Flippy’s shins, earning a pinch to his arm. 

Before Siz can argue, Curtis laughs, and rolls onto his side, facing the two of them. 

“Good night,” Curtis says, pointedly. 

“Night,” Flippy echoes, arm tightening around Siz’s waist.

With a loud huff and a muttered “night”, Siz adjusts himself obnoxiously and then closes his eyes. 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

* * *

Siz gets up once in the middle of the night and swipes the first thing that feels like his hoodie before he stumbles his way out of the tent to relieve himself. When he comes back, he almost doesn’t bother fighting for his spot back, because Curtis has sprawled himself over it. But before he can even think to do something like, sleep on the floor, Flippy rolls just enough to let Siz back in. He doesn’t hesitate- just squirrels his way under the blankets and back into the heat of two bodies pressed against his own.

In the morning, Siz wakes up to his cheek pressed against Curtis’s bare chest. As he’s processing that- and wondering what disturbed him in the first place- he registers the hand on his hips and the shift of movement from behind, against his backside. He stifles a gasp but isn’t sure he’s successful when, just like that, Flippy is yanking his hand back and sitting up. He tries not to feel disappointed when Flippy stands and makes his way out of the tent, only briefly halted by stubbing his toes on someone’s discarded shoe. Siz listens to his muffled cursing and the sound of a zipper. 

Then Siz is cursing too because the light from outside hits his eyes and a cold breeze drifts over them. He slaps a hand over his face, blocking out the sun. He feels, more than he hears, Curtis’s laugh. 

_When did he wake up?_ Siz wonders.

“‘S that my hoodie?” Curtis asks, voice rough from sleep. He adjusts himself so that his head is propped up on his fist, elbow buried in the pillow under him. His eyes are dark and amused, a sleepy grin on his face. For some reason, Siz is suddenly _very_ flustered.

“Shut up, it’s the only thing I could find last night,” Siz replies, sitting up and scrubbing a hand through his hair, no longer a wig but something he’s been working on growing out for a few months now. With a glance down at himself, he sees Curtis is right. It is indeed the hoodie he’d been wearing yesterday before it got too hot. “Want it back?”

“Nah, it’s cute,” Curtis says, sitting up. He tugs on the hem of the hoodie, then stands up, the waistband of his briefs sitting low on his hips. 

At a loss for words, Siz scoffs and gets out of bed. Once standing, he yawns and gets dressed, shoving his feet into his flip flops. He makes his way out of the tent, rubbing his eyes with the hoodie’s sleeves. He plops down into the first chair he bumps into.

“What time ‘s it?” Siz asks.

“Eight,” Flippy replies, digging around in their cooler for a package of bacon. The way he says it as though he’s holding in a laugh has Siz aiming a glare at him.

“ _Eight?_ ” Siz can’t believe he forgot that these two are early birds. Ugh. Melting into his chair, he debates going back to bed.

“Well if you got up a little earlier, you’d hang out with us more, scumbag,” Flippy says, ripping open the package and depositing the bacon onto a skillet sitting above the firepit. Siz watches as he backs off when the fire lashes out, grease sizzling loudly.

Siz is beginning to wonder if Flippy’s ever gone camping before.

“This is a rare treat just for you,” Siz says, trying to be snide, but his words lose the venom as he yawns yet again. 

Siz becomes aware of the pointed stare coming from his left and turns his gaze to Curtis, who flashes him another smirk. Siz raises an eyebrow in askance. Curtis shrugs and turns away, deciding to help Flippy make eggs. As he walks by, he pauses to press a kiss to Flippy’s cheek, before digging through the cooler. Siz would help if they let him, but just as he’s not picky about where he sleeps, he doesn’t really care what his food ends up as, so long as it’s edible. Which doesn’t inspire much confidence, as they’ve said while planning the trip.

The sound of breakfast cooking over the fire is enough to tempt Siz into dozing, but a plate of food is on his lap before he knows it. 

“Thanks,” Siz says, weakly prodding at the fork. So tired.

“The river’s not too far from here,” Curtis speaks up, to his left. “I was thinkin’ we could go there. Later.”

Siz hums around the fork in his mouth, trying to reassure Curtis that he’s listening.

“Sure.” Flippy tosses his paper plate into the fire, done eating. “We have nothing planned.” 

There’s no way Siz misses the traded looks being exchanged in front of him by the two. He closes his eyes and decides to finally ask about the elephant in the room. Even when he was first asked, he had assumed they would have rather gone camping by themselves, so it came as a surprise when an invitation was extended. And maybe he should have declined, but faced with two sets of puppy dog eyes, he couldn’t say no. 

He pulls the fork from his mouth and finishes up his meal. 

“Alright, why’d you really bring me here?” Siz asks, leaning forward to dump his empty plate into the fire as well. From his seat, he aims the fork towards the bin holding their dirty dishes and tries to throw it in there. He misses.

“To spend time with you?” Flippy says, eyebrows raised. 

Although Siz has never really cared if people thought he was actually dumb, in this instance, it doesn’t fail to make him a little heated. He stares at Flippy until he begins to fidget.

“It was actually Julio,” Curtis cuts in, sounding apologetic. “Said you’ve been… off, lately. Something about overworking yourself? And being a meeting andy?”

It’s hard to be angry in the face of two earnest people showing they care, but still. Siz is more than capable of taking care of himself. Sure, it’s been hard, trying to help the boys, lady of the lake shenanigans, and dealing with the coke market, thinking of who would be a good fit while Manny’s busy- and then he comes to the realization that even now, he can’t turn off his brain when it comes to ‘work’. 

He hates it when people have a point.

“Okay,” he says like it’s being forcefully dragged from him. He doesn’t say thank you but knows by the different ways they show their relief, they know what he means. “I’m still mad. And if you two need, like, me to go somewhere else so you two can-”

“Shut up!” Flippy interrupts, flinging a napkin at him.

* * *

When the sun is high over their heads and even _Siz_ is feeling the effects of the heat, they quickly find themselves at the river. Siz dumps his bag on a rock and debates the merits of actually taking his shirt off to swim. In the end, he pulls off his hoodie and shirt, then digs through his bag’s side pockets for the sunscreen. He wished he could say he tans, but nope- he burns, and the thought of suffering through an entire week as a lobster is very unappealing.

Beside him, Curtis has set out a blanket, weighed down by some rocks and his backpack. He’s taken his shirt off again ages ago and Flippy’s joined him in that on the walk down to the water. Siz has had a very hard time trying not to get caught staring. Who can blame him? Thankfully he thought ahead and is wearing some sunglasses.

He’s lucky he’s had the foresight to wear his trunks before making the trek out here. With a few shakes of the bottle, he squirts a shit ton of sunscreen into his palm and begins spreading it across his arms.

Hearing a splash, Siz looks up to see Flippy flailing his way out of the river, sputtering and spitting. The culprit stands above him, just far enough that his ankle can’t be grabbed in retaliation. Siz watches as they stare, before Flippy sends a large wave of water up and over, covering Curtis’s front.

As the fight ensues, Siz returns to his application of sunblock. Hot guys having water fights aside, Siz has important things to tend to. Such as the protection of his pasty skin.

And he must really be _off_ his usual game because he doesn’t notice the sudden silence and the creeping of someone behind him until it’s too late. He’s hauled over a broad shoulder and tossed into the cold river before he can blink. He scrambles his way to the surface. He’s met with laughter, probably because of the way his hair hangs in his face, plastered against his cheeks.

“You didn’t even have the decency to let me finish applying sunscreen, you scumbag,” Siz says after they calm down. 

“You were applying, like, thirty layers,” Flippy says.

It’s… kind of true. So what? Better safe than sorry. 

Instead of replying, Siz shoves Flippy under the water.

* * *

Siz stays behind when Curtis and Flippy get tired of swimming. He floats in calm waters with his eyes closed, listening to them walk away. He doesn’t know how long he remains there, but when he stands, the sky is beginning to darken. He shakes his head, hair flinging droplets around him, and then makes his way to the rock he left his clothes.

He puts them over his shoulder, along with his bag, and slides his feet into his flip flops. 

Walking into the campsite results in instant regret as he catches Flippy and Curtis in the midst of a steamy kiss. Flippy’s hand untangles from Curtis’s hair and their lips part with a smack. Siz resists the urge to scrunch his nose and instead clears his throat, awkwardly.

“Uh, sorry, I’ll just-” Siz scurries his way to the tent and feels marginally better once the door is zipped. Inside, he tugs off his sunglasses and tosses them onto the bed, dropping his things next to his feet. He rummages around for a towel and tries not to think about… _anything_. 

He can hear them shifting around the site as he dries himself and dresses back up. The jeans are a pain to get up with his skin still damp, but he manages. He stares down at the hoodie, tempted to put it back on, but… 

_What am I doing?_ Siz scolds himself, eyebrows furrowing. 

The only reason anyone would ever like him is that he’s _useful_. And he’s long-accepted his scar to be a part of himself, but that doesn’t mean it’s not ugly. That he’s not ugly. 

Shaking his head, he pulls out a long sleeve shirt and unzips the tent, as tempted as he is to stay in it.

Stepping out, he doesn’t expect to bump into Curtis and when he stumbles, he plants his hands on Curtis’s chest. 

“You good?” Curtis asks, voice rough in a way that nearly makes Siz’s legs tremble, made worse by the way Curtis plants his hands on Siz’s hips as though they were meant to be there.

“Yeah,” he replies, wincing as it comes out higher pitched. He removes his hands from Curtis, but the other doesn’t move.

As though watching it happen in slow motion, Curtis dips his head, lips pressing against the corner of Siz’s- off-target only because he had enough clarity in his mind to turn his head away at the last second.

“What’re you doing?” Siz’s question comes out broken, dragging out of his throat as though he’s spitting out glass.

“We had ulterior motives,” Flippy says from behind Siz, chin hooking over his shoulder. “Julio just gave us a good excuse.”

“If you want us to stop, just say so.” Curtis’s left-hand lets go of Siz’s hip, cradling the scarred side of his face. Siz feels the drag of Curtis’s lips against his own, murmuring, “Well?”

How could either of them expect him to say _stop_?

It’s easy to melt into the thumb caressing rough skin, to get lost in the suction of their lips, at the tongue dipping in and out of his mouth. Easy to shiver when another set of lips skims over his neck and shoulder, shirt getting tugged out of the way. 

“You’re hogging him,” Flippy complains, hand reaching around Siz to push at Curtis’s chin. It doesn’t do anything other than make Curtis grin into the kiss.

Siz feels warm, in more ways than one. It’s a little overwhelming. 

Flippy tries something different and begins pulling Siz backward, into the tent. Curtis finally lets go, with a parting nip to Siz’s bottom lip. Next thing he knows, he’s sprawled across the air mattress, a heavy weight on his left side, leaving just enough room for Curtis to crawl on top of him.

Flippy kisses differently. If Curtis was a fire, Flippy is frost creeping over a window. Slow, steady, consuming. Siz sighs into it as Curtis slots his mouth over his neck. Flippy’s hand trails down his front, pausing at the button of his pants.

“This okay?” Flippy asks, playing with his zipper.

Although part of him knows that this is a little fast, the other part of him gives no shits about that- he’s been waiting for a long time now. 

“Yes,” Siz says, voice barely above a whisper. If it’s a little more pleading than he would have liked it to be, no one teases him about it. And then Flippy’s hand slides under the waistband of Siz’s boxers. He grabs at Flippy’s shirt, a shudder running through his body as Flippy’s hand cups him.

“You’re this wet already?” Flippy teases, pulling away from his lips to whisper against his ear. 

“Shut up,” Siz stutters, and Flippy’s shirt crinkles under his grip when Flippy slides a finger into him. “Oh, _fuck_.”

Siz becomes very aware of something hard pressing against his hip, Curtis rubbing idle circles into his waist with his thumb. Siz drapes his free hand over his face, hiding from view, as slick sounds fill the tent. He stifles a mewl when another finger enters him, sliding against him in all the right ways. His hips arch into Flippy’s hand.

Curtis drags his arm off his face, pressing his lips against his knuckles.

“Don’t hide from us, babe,” Curtis says, roughly. Siz watches as Curtis sits up long enough to pull off his shirt, his pants following right after. “Flip, you too.” 

Hesitation from Flippy makes it all the more disappointing when his fingers slip from Siz slowly, leaving him wanting and aching in the best way possible. Siz then watches as Curtis helps Flippy with his shirt, dipping in close to give him a peck that Flippy doesn’t let him pull away from. 

Siz can’t help himself as his hand trails down, fingers sliding over himself. He bites at his bottom lip when Flippy offers Curtis his fingers- the same ones that had been inside Siz not even three minutes ago. Curtis sucks them into his mouth, making eye contact with Flippy as he does so, weaving his tongue between the digits.

Curtis lets Flippy’s fingers slip from his mouth. Then he notices the placement of Siz’s hand, which brings Flippy’s attention to it as well.

Siz freezes in place, feeling some embarrassment flooding back. He clears his throat, then barks, “What?”

Flippy doesn’t answer, instead nudging Curtis out of the way so he can drag Siz’s pants and boxers down, letting them drop over the edge of the bed. Tentative hands settle on Siz’s shaking thighs, preventing him from closing his legs. Flippy’s thumbs caress his warm skin, observing him with an intensity that Siz is unaccustomed to.

There’s a moment of silence as Curtis rummages through their bags and then Flippy is taking the condom handed to him. Flippy wiggles it in the air and, meeting Siz’s eyes, asks, “Can I?”

Again, like Siz is going to say _no_. He appreciates the sentiment, though, and dips his head in a nod.

Flippy drags the head of his cock against Siz, dipping in and then back out. It’s infuriating. Just as Siz is about to tell him off, Flippy is slipping inside, slowly. Siz’s mouth closes around a moan so fast his teeth click, hand reaching out to grab at the blankets he’s laying on. He watches a bead of sweat roll down Flippy’s neck, before a finger reaches out to guide his chin towards Curtis.

Curtis sucks at his bottom lip, swallowing his gasps when Flippy’s hips start moving. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Flippy breathes, putting a hand behind Siz’s head to brace himself. 

“We’ve been waiting so long for this,” Curtis says against Siz’s jaw, kissing a line down his neck, sucking at the skin there. 

Siz wants to say ‘me too’, but any time he opens his mouth, Flippy snaps his hips and rubs against his sweet spot. He’s been noisy before, but now, Siz wants to slap his hand over his mouth. As if to add salt to the wound, he’s never been this _wet_ before.

“Shit,” he hisses, clenching down around Flippy when Curtis bites his shoulder. “Please, fuck. I’m close-”

“Yeah?” Flippy poorly hides a smug little smile, speeding up his pace.

Between Flippy and the sight of Curtis stroking his cock, Siz finds himself cumming around Flippy, with a harsh yelp of their names. Flippy doesn’t stop moving until he’s following behind, hands tight around Siz’s thighs. Curtis cums in the palm of his fist, sucking another mark into Siz’s neck.

Siz lets his head fall back against his pillow, recovering his breath. 

And then Flippy is pulling out, tying the condom, discarding it in the trash bag in the corner. Then he tosses two towels at Curtis and Siz. Siz misses the catch and his vision is obscured by it, until he rips it off his face, sitting up. 

“This wasn’t-” Siz pauses, unsure how to address this. “It’s not a one and done thing, is it?”

Curtis looks up from where he’s cleaning off his hand. “Fuck no. Unless that’s what you want?”

“How about we don’t dance around this,” Flippy suggests, pulling a pair of briefs up. “Dating. Boyfriends. That whole thing.”

And normally talking about feelings is among one of the last things Siz enjoys, but even he knows not to let something like this slip away. 

“I want _that_ ,” Siz says. “Not… friends with benefits or whatever. Dating.”

“We skipped a few steps,” Curtis points out with lovesick eyes and a puppy-like grin. Siz feels himself smile and turns his head away.

“If you went with what _I_ suggested,” Flippy starts, but then Curtis tosses his towel at him.

“Then we’d get nowhere because Siz here assumes every flirt is a joke,” Curtis interrupts.

Siz sputters, “Do not.”

“Do too,” Curtis and Flippy say at once.

Curtis drops a hoodie onto Siz’s lap before he can argue with that. It’s the same one he was wearing earlier. He pointedly doesn’t do anything with it until their stares get to be too much and he’s tugging it over his head with a, “Fuck, fine, alright.”

“Better,” Flippy says, kissing Siz’s scarred cheek and dancing out of the way when Siz’s hand shoots out to bat him away. “Now that, that’s settled, I’m hungry.”

As they make their way out of the tent, Siz sits on the bed and watches. Impossibility became reality and… he doesn’t know what to think about that. 

To think he has four more days of this camping adventure to enjoy.

Siz lays back and covers his face, smiling.

Revising his earlier thoughts, he is _absolutely_ never taking the H.O.A boys here. Ever.


End file.
